


Spumoni

by Aristide



Series: Let's Get Beached! 2020 [3]
Category: OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes
Genre: Body Image, Get Beached! 2020, M/M, Panic Attacks, Weight Gain, fat kink, imagined weight gain, padded clothing, quarantine fic, snake dad struggles, taste testing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25861633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aristide/pseuds/Aristide
Summary: With the greater Lakewood area under lockdown, Boxman was been working on his baking skills.
Relationships: Lord Boxman/Professor Venomous (OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes)
Series: Let's Get Beached! 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822957
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	Spumoni

**Author's Note:**

> My take on the Get Beached! 2020 writing challange, modified to fit my schedule.
> 
> Prompts Used: Taste Tester + Unknowingly Gaining + Quarantine Weight
> 
> Be mindful of the tags in this one and consider skipping if written descriptions of panic and negative body images upset you.
> 
> Special thanks as always to Baphomet for beta reading this.

Professor Venomous was a natural homebody. He was more than content to spend most days in his laboratory cultivating samples or, lounging the numerous rooms his villainous lair had at its disposal. So when Congresswoman gave the order to quarantine, for heroes and villains alike, his routine had remained much the same as it always had. 

Not everyone living in Boxmore was quite as lucky.

With no one shopping at the plaza, attacking it lost all its charm, and Lord Boxman had spent the first week of lockdown sulking. The cyborg tried several hobbies in the following days with varying degrees of success. He was now the proud owner of a scrapbook, and several paintings were placed in the halls of boxmore; however, they didn't bring the joy he felt when destroying the plaza. Ultimately Boxman donned his apron and found catharsis in baking. 

Venomous picked up a tart from Boxman's most recent tray of goodies and surveyed it. 

Everyday since his first attempt at a recipe he'd found online the shorter villain would bring him a platter of treats to try. They started off basic, things like cookies, brownies or simple pastries. Yet slowly he showed some skill progression, after four months of daily practice Boxman was making near perfect deserts. Now he was attempting more avant-garde dishes like Tiramisu and souffles. Today's treat was white chocolate and cherry tartlets, Venomous bit into it, humming in pleasure at the combination of smooth sweet cream filling and crumbly, buttery shortbread crust.

As he ate he noticed a pink gloved paw reach up and take a tart from his desk. Then another, and another.

"Fink." He spoke sternly. Slowly his minion's round green-furred face poked out from behind the work station. She didn't look the slightest bit guilty as she clutched the pilfered snacks close to her chest. 

"Yeah Boss?" 

"You'll spoil your appetite if you eat all those."

Her little whiskers twitched as she pouted up at him. 

"But.. but you haven't been sharing anything with me all week. Not even a crumb! I'm practically wastin' away while you're up here stuffing your face and getting as fat as Boxbooo…." 

Fink looked up at him with wide eyes and mouth agape. A heavy silence filled the lab as the two stared at each other. 

Suddenly the little rat hybrid laughed. 

"Whaddaya know? I think I hear my boss callin' me."

"… Fink."

She stuffed the handful of tarts into her tiny mouth causing her cheeks to bulge out comically, then dropped on all fours and bolted out the door. 

"I am your boss, Fink!" He shouted after her as he got up from his chair.

  


* * *

  


Brows knitted together, Venomous squished the soft layer of fat with both hands, pinching the modest little belly between his fingers. That was certainly new. Newish at least. The dark wine colored strech marks were proof of that. 

On some level he had to have realized it was happening. He was aware of it enough to button his pants up under his growing paunch when getting dressed this morning. Just how long would he have ignored it had his little henchrat not pointed it out? 

He smoothed the turtleneck down over his middle and studied his reflection in the mirror hanging on the closet door.

It was still apparent that he'd gained weight, although not much. Rather he looked full and content, like a boa that had consumed an especially large prey. That might have been from finishing off the tarts before leaving the lab.  
While he hesitated to call it a good look on him, the longer Venomous considered the man in the mirror the more at ease he felt. His body had certainly undergone more alarming transformations in the past.

What had Fink said? That if he kept it up he'd get as fat as Boxman? 

Venomous tugged off his turtleneck. He could grab one of Boxman's t-shirts and put it on. Or maybe…  
Biting his lip he picked out one of the cyborg's white button down shirts from the closet. He did up the bottom half of buttons before tucking the hem into his pants. It took three pillows from their bed to fill out the shirt: one pressed vertically against his torso while the other two encompassed his waist, all of them overlapping in front of his stomach.  
When he was happy with the placement of the padding he buttoned the shirt up the rest of the way and stepped back in front of the mirror.

Venomous eyes are locked on his reflection as he sinks his fingers into the pillowy mass. 

How much would he have to gain to get that big? 100 pounds? Maybe even 200? After all, it wouldn't just go to his belly, now would it. Venomous puffed out his cheeks and tilted his head. His face would fill out for sure and his jaw would certainly soften into a double chin by then. He stopped his arm as he was about to reach up to run a hand down the underside of his chin. It looked so thin and spindly in contrast to the stuffed shirt. The villain had already lost muscle mass in recent years so what did it matter if a layer of pudge settled on top of his biceps; or even sagged under them? And his legs…

Heat rushed to his purple face as he looked down, only to realize he couldn't see anything but the gently sagging dome of his padded middle. From this angle it looked even larger then it did in the mirror, jutting out and away fromg his body, obscuring everything bellow it from view. Would he have to waddle by then? Wound the simple act of getting to and from the lab tire him out as his thighs rubbed together and his stomach wobbled with every slow step? What about Boxman? What would the sex be like with so much fat between them?

With each question his breath grew more ragged. His chest tightened as his eyes roamed his body again and again in the mirror until he couldn't stand it anymore. 

"What are you thinking?" He hissed at himself as he tore at the shirt buttons with shaky hands. Perhaps he wasn't as okay with it as he thought. Not to that extent. "Ridiculous. Completely asinine." 

Sitting down at the foot of the bed, he chucked the pillows at the headboard and dropped Boxman's shirt on the floor. Digging his fingers into his scalp, Venomous tried to reign in the torrent of negative emotions that his little game of make-believe had dredged up by focusing on his breathing. In, hold for five seconds, out, and repeat.  
It took several reps before he felt relaxed enough to put his own turtleneck back on. It took even longer before he felt confident enough to stand up and pick his partner's shirt up from the floor. He shook it to get the wrinkles out then hung it back up in the closet with a somber smile. 

"He wears it better anyway."


End file.
